The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1887-07-09


any one on earth.
For a week Harlow never left hi:
ROOM His sprightly, gay spirits vanished
and long fits of detection supervened.
If Bertha suspected the cause OF the
change in his appearance she never be
trayed it. He pleaded an attack o.
malaria, to which he said he was victim
this was all he offered in explanation o.
his moodiness.
At the end of his hermitage longing
desire to see his love again reasserteo
itself. He tore himself from his seclusior
and went to her house.
When he entered, to his bewildered
CONSERVATION he learned she had left the
city.
A note was handed him by the lady Of
the house, which she gave him at Cora's
request. He tremblingly tore open the
envelope. The note read as follows:
"In three wears. CORA"
Every one of those words seemed as il
written in fire. He was mystified be-
yond reason. The thought, "Was she
trifing with his affectionsW took the
place of all other considerations. But
where was the motive? The more he
cogitated over the short note the more
he clothed it with an occult meaning.
He left the house, repaired to his
room, and in the wreck of his life's hap
piness wept poignant tears of woe.
The Occident had no more charms for
him; he determined to return East in the
course of fortnight.
He left San Francisco an altered man
and returned to his home, but the
thought of Cora, ever present in his
mind, drew a veil of sadness over his
whole life. Some months afterward he
finished his law studies and entered up
on his chosen profession.
At the end Of three years his life was
! just as void of happiness as the day
when Cora told him it could never be.
He resolved at last to once again visit
/ the West and learn, if possible, heI
whereabouts.
When he arrived at San Francisco he
called at the house where he had last seer
her; she had never been heard from, and
as far as the good lady could enlighter
him she might be dead Mrs. Wentworth
and her daughter told the same despair
ing story-she had almost dropped from
| their memory.
The one great object of life now wa:
to find her aud learn from her own lip,
the meaning of those odd words: I'll
three years"
If he failed-alas! he dared not con
template the consequences. Find her h,
would, if it took years of constant search
Such is the love of some men, who il
their constancy sacrifice years of happi
ness for the sake of one mortal Not {
stone was left unturned in his untirins
search for her, but to no avail. No on,
could be found to give him one ray o
hope as regards her whereabouts. Blu
he found her at last-found her a new
woman, even lovelier than he had eve
seen her,
What strange, impelling influence lee
him to visit San Quentin he will neve
know. Was it mere whim, fancy, O.
was it the hand of fate striving to max,
amends for past discourtesies2
San Quentin is small town, situated
on the bay of San Francisco. 1t took hin
but short time to ascertain that ther,
was nothing there to interest his atten
ton. But stay-the States prison is 10
Gated in this small village. Another trair
did not arrive for two hours; why no
pass the the time there2
1t was The cxtravagant desire of ,
morbid temperament. He had no ide.
that the sights there would interest hin
any more than the commonplace realitie.
of the village itself
He repaired to the prison. The warden
was very kind and urbanc-he could &C
through the prison if he so desired. Al
usher who escorted him through the diff
ferent departments explained every poin
in the workings of the place, but h,
| liatpDpd ind ifforoptlv. bo fo1t ,bot W a. 49,.